


What is Love?

by wyrdann104



Series: Dark and/or Weird Poetry and Ficlets [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aromanticism, Asexuality, Character Study, Familial Love, Gen, Is this dark?, Love, My head is a weird place, No Romance, No Sex, No Smut, Orange and Blue Morality, Original Poetry - Freeform, Poetry, not for me anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 04:05:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyrdann104/pseuds/wyrdann104
Summary: On the inner workings of this particular asexual aromantic.





	What is Love?

What is love?

 

No, I’m not joking; I swear.

 

What is love?

 

I know that it’s an emotion, that it’s lauded and held in awe,

I know that love has launched a thousand ships,

had ten thousand poems written in it’s honor,

and more.

 

Yes yes, I know that.

 

I know that it’s chemicals in the brain, oxytocin and dopamine,

but what else?

 

I know I love my family.

 

I know I feel love when I hug my parents,

when I run alongside my siblings,

knock shoulders and share jokes and odd, fragmented bits of humor.

 

That is love, and I know it well.

 

But then, I hear of sweaty palms and racing hearts, and all my understanding flees.

 

What is romantic love?

 

What makes kissing attractive?

Swapping spit? I don’t get it.

What is this phenomenon that society is so entranced by?

 

I’m not-

I don’t-

this isn’t my love.

 

It’s not my love.

 

I would drench myself in blood for my family

and crochet them scarves I know they will almost never wear

and follow them past the ends of the world with only mild complaining,

 

but I do not want a boyfriend, and I wouldn’t kiss him even if I did,

 

And a wedding night?

 

Not for the most wondrous treasures in the cosmos, and all the books I could read in a lifetime.

 

Does this make me broken?

 

I don’t understand.

 

It's just-

 

I would kill for my family.

I’ve imagined it,

blood or poison and there would be guilt,

but I would live with that for the sake of my family,

 

but the idea of kissing someone makes me nauseous.

 

Am I wrong in the head?

Was something disconnected?

Are wires loose inside my brain?

 

Did something go wrong?

 

( _'Please prove me wrong,'_ I whisper to the shadows when I cannot sleep, except that I do not want to be anything else)

 

Perhaps I should rephrase myself then;

 

What is romance?

 

Then again,

I do not _want_ to know it.


End file.
